


the sweet smell of burning plastic

by Starful_nights



Series: party poison fucks shit up: the series [2]
Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys - My Chemical Romance (Album), The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (Comic)
Genre: Gen, Nonbinary Jet Star (Danger Days), Nonbinary Party Poison (Danger Days), but this time ghoul's there too, no beta we die like the fab four, party is an idiot, party open a window challenge 2k20
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:48:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25615369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starful_nights/pseuds/Starful_nights
Summary: “Do you smell burning plastic?”“Shit! Shitshitshitshitshit! The plastic bag!”“The wha- oh fuck. STOP IRONING, IDIOT!”
Series: party poison fucks shit up: the series [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1856761
Comments: 8
Kudos: 16





	the sweet smell of burning plastic

**Author's Note:**

> i am Back with more party being stupid content because this is the only thing i can write apparently!! it's fun so no complaints though
> 
> [also i didn't actually iron a plastic bag to a shirt so sorry for any inaccuracies]

"I can't believe I was left in charge of you while Kobra and Jet got to take the Girl to buy stuff."

“Ghoul, I can take care of myself, you know. I’m older,” Party huffed, sitting in a ridiculous pose in their favourite chair as usual when they had nothing to do in the diner with no inspiration. 

“We both know I’m more responsible, and you haven’t even caused three explosions last week. Your fuckups are rarer but oh, so worse,” he grinned. “Remember what happened to Jet’s nail polish two days ago?”

Party cringed. 

“I already said I was sorry! You should be happy you weren’t the one to make something explode by accident this time.”

“I’m just saying- you should make it up to xem.”

“Okay. But how?” They twisted even further in the chair, their legs up on the wall, head hanging down. After a few minutes they suddenly tried to sit up, and ended up on the floor in a tangle of limbs. 

“I know! I’ll iron xyr shirts! They’re always so creased and the last time someone did it, xe was so happy!”

“That...actually sounds good. Didn't know you can be nice.”

"Fuck off. I'm the nicest person ever."

They spent an embarrassingly long time searching for the iron (they used it once in all their time at the diner), and Ghoul didn’t help them. Naturally.

“Ghoul, I know you knew where the iron was.”

“Of course I did,” he grinned.

“Little shit. Can you bring some of Jet’s shirts here? I’m tired from all the searching I did because you didn’t help me.”

“It wasn’t even ten minutes. Shut up.”

“Please?”

“No.”

“I’ll iron a hole into one of your shirts.”

“This is blackmail.”

“Yes. I know. It’s one of my many virtues,” they grinned.

“Blackmailing is not a virtue,” he snorted.

“It can be. Be the change you want to see. Make blackmail a virtue.”

“I’m so glad you’re not evil sometimes.”

“Finally someone sees my potential.”

“I take it back. You’d be too dumb for that.”

“Aw, thanks! Now get the shirts or yours will pay the price.”

“At your service, your highness,” Ghoul said with a mock bow and came back with his hands full with creased clothes. “Be careful. If you end up ruining more of Jet’s stuff I’ll make you regret it. Really bad. Xe doesn’t deserve all this accidental abuse from you.”

“It was one bottle of nail polish!” Party shouted and started ironing the shirts angrily, not noticing some were inside out, or that Jet kept scented plastic in some of xyr shirts. (The desert made you _sweat._ ) The following disaster went down like this:

Party was on the seventh shirt, and everything was going surprisingly smoothly. They moved on to the eighth. After about thirty seconds, Ghoul looked up.

“Do you smell burning plastic?”

“Shit! Shitshitshitshitshit! The plastic bag!”

“The wha- oh fuck. STOP IRONING, IDIOT!”

Party quickly unplugged the iron and turned the shirt back the right way. Luckily, the melted plastic hasn’t stuck the front and back together yet, just left a gooey blue mess in the middle of the front.

“Ghoulghoulghoul what do i do?”

“Uh...call Kobra.”

“He’s with Jet!”

“Hide the shirt!”

“It’s one of xyr favourites!”

“Owe up to your mistake!”

Party stopped.

“No. We need to make it look better. I’ll call Kobra in a moment.”

“Glitter?”

“Hmm. No. What can I do for Jet? Jet, Jet Star, Star! Jet _Star!_ I’ll make the goo into a star!”

“Party, are you sure this is a good-”

“Absolutely not. But I have nothing better.”

“Okay, then,” he blinked. (At this point it should probably be mentioned that Ghoul was the one with the least experiences with Party’s colossal fuckups, mostly for the reason that usually leaving the two of them together was just asking for trouble, this day the living proof.)

Meanwhile, Party was already dialling Kobra.

“Hey, Kobra. Is Jet there?”

“Yeah, we’re gonna leave in a sec. Why?”

“Get him away from there, I need to talk to you. It’s a surprise.”

“Okay...Jet, go buy something sweet for my sibling. I’ll pretend it’s from me.”

“I heard that.”

“So, what did you do?”

“...I ironed a plastic bag into Jet’s shirt.”

“Motherfucker. I told you to be careful!”

“It’s okay. I’m fixing it. I’m making it into a star. A Jet Star.”

“That’s...actually not bad! Party, I gotta go. Be fast.”

They put the phone down and immediately went into Art Mode.

“Give me a spoon you don’t like. No, not that one, that’s Kobra’s favourite. No, dumbass! That’s a bent knife! Fina- no. That’s _my_ favourite spoon. Just- argh. I'm gonna go and get one myself. Make sure the plastic stays _melted!”_

Ten minutes, many swear-words, a half-ruined spoon, and a diner full with the acrid smell of burning plastic later, (they didn’t think of going outside. Of course they didn’t) Party stood back and admired the slightly messy blue star with swirls of see-through plastic and glitter then ran outside and just stood there, breathing. Ghoul ran back in and grabbed the shirt before it made the diner smell any worse, and finally had the common sense to open a window. 

“Oh. Yeah. That’s a good idea,” Party said. Ghoul snorted.

“You still standing by your statement that I’m not the more mature one?”

“I will never back down. Plus, look at this cool thing I made in the end!”

“You’re hopeless,” he sighed and drew squiggles in the dust with his toes until the Trans Am rolled up to the diner. The Girl jumped out and ran up to them, hugging Party and showing the small lollipop she got. 

“Party, Party, look! It’s pink! Also you smell bad.”

“It’s art.”

“Sibling dear, smelling bad isn’t an art. If it were, you’d be a millionaire.”

“Kobra. Dearest younger brother of mine. It’s the result of an art project, and you have smelling bad down to an art form, anyway.”

“Fucker. Show us the art already.” 

“Jet, turn away. It’s for you.”

“Party, you didn’t have to!” xe beamed.

“Yes, I did. It’s an apology for the nail polish.” 

Ghoul tried to suppress his snicker. It didn’t really work.

“You really didn't have to.”

“I did anyway. Ghoul, where did I put it?”

“By the door.”

“Oh. Yeah. You’re right. Here you go. Hope you don’t mind your shirt being a bit changed.” They smiled sheepishly. Jet looked at it, stunned.

“Party...Party, that’s amazing! You really shouldn’t have. It’s so beautiful!”

“Is it a star because Jet Star?” the Girl asked.

“Yes, Girlie. Because Jet Star.”

“Can you make me a shirt too?”

“No,” Kobra said. “The diner smells as bad as it is. Did you melt plastic for this?”

“Mmmmaybe.”

“Idiot child,” he said, shaking his head. “Now. Come look at all the sweet shit we got!”


End file.
